


The Exit Car

by edlweiss



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: A little claustrophobia, Close Quarters, Eventual Smut, F/F, Oral Sex, Porn With Mild Plot, Probably has loads of typos, Sexy Times, Two Shot, Vaginal Fingering, but i hope not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:21:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29892099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edlweiss/pseuds/edlweiss
Summary: The Doctor and Yaz finish a tour of the center of an alien planet, but the method of exit looks to be below expectations.
Relationships: The Doctor/Yasmin Khan, Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	The Exit Car

Yaz and the Doctor peered skeptically into the space before them and looked at each other in silent communication. 

The Doctor turned back to the tour guide behind them.

“This is the exit? You sure?” she said, eyeing the guide, who resembled a pitch black piece of gigantic soot. A towering bit of coal.

“Oh yes!” the coal said, beaming at them with her razor sharp teeth that were equally black.

Yaz huffed nervously. “But...it’s...why’s it different-looking than how we got down here?” she asked.

“This is the Exit Car! The Descent Car is designed to be quick and get you down here to experience the wonders of the Blessed Core! The Exit Car is fashioned to let you process everything you’ve seen and let you bask in the reverential memory of standing in the presence of the very thing that keeps us alive and gives us meaning!” The guide finished, taking a needed breath and sighing in what Yaz guessed was happiness. A bit hard to tell when coal dust puffed out of her mouth.

The Doctor frowned, but looked at Yaz and shrugged. “Well, the TARDIS is up on the surface, so I guess there’s only one way back to her.” 

Yaz turned and looked back into what could only be described as a cave. A cave appointed with some amenities to be sure, but still. A cave. Maybe even something vaguely tomb-like.

“There were windows comin’ down - we don’t get that on the way out?” she was starting to sweat a bit looking at the narrowness of the room they were expected to walk into. Check that - climb into. 

“C’mon, Yaz, it’ll be fun!” The Doctor chirped. Yaz turned a sour look her way. The Doctor pointedly ignored the look and faced their guide again. “Thank you, Miner B-one-thousand-three-twenty-four. Most helpful. So we’ll be back up to the surface in, what, an hour?”

“Oh no, the Exit Car is specifically crafted to last eight hours, or, as you well know after taking the tour, one complete turn of our own Heavenly Core! That way, you can really get a sense of the vastness and beauty of the life-giving center of our planet.” 

The Doctor blinked at the guide for a split-second and then spun back to Yaz, clapping her on the back and turning her away from the guide.

“Yaz,” she whispered, “the TARDIS can’t get a read on us down here because of the hyper-magnetic core, so it’s either get into the car, or stay down here and turn into an Orravian soot miner.” She watched Yaz with her eyebrows raised in a what’ll-it-be? gesture.

Yaz huffed again, and felt the creeping sweat wetting her hair at the base of her neck and slipping down her spine. 

“Eight flippin’ hours! Doctor, you are bloody lucky that Core was as magnificent as it was,” she rasped out. Her hand was gripping the opening to the car so hard she felt a tendon twinge.

Yaz didn’t mention that the whole trip had been worth it when the Doctor grabbed her hand in glee and led her sprinting over to the railing that separated them from the very burning center of this small planet. Yaz had been enraptured by it, had felt dwarfed by its sheer size and grandeur. 

But the thing that had really moved the needle to a five-star rating had been when she turned to the Doctor, to find the Time Lord gazing at her, _at Yaz_ , with an expression one could only call adoration. Yaz had been surprised and had tried to reciprocate (because God knows she looked at the Doctor that way all the arsed time), but The Doctor had jumped and set her eyes back to the burning hot goliath in front of them. The Doctor has immediately launched into relating a time she had nearly been melted in some other planet’s core, but all Yaz could see was the faint flush to the time lord’s cheeks and her throat bobbing up and down. She felt the familiar flip of butterflies in her stomach, and that same sweet ache between her legs, and she wished not for the first time that she could just grab the Doctor, press her against the wall, and capture her chatty mouth in a blistering kiss. She had bit her lip at the thought.

But now Yaz’s mouth was set in a hard grimace. 

“Ok, let’s get this over with,” and she climbed over the rough lip of the car’s entry, her shoulders pulled up tight to her neck. The Doctor followed right on her heels. 

The car, as it were, did look a bit like a sleeping car on a train. If that train had been hewn out of rock and abandoned as it was half-done. The ceiling was low and cut from the dark stone of the planet, as were the walls and floor. There was a bed on the left that was basically a metal bunk bed, the top bunk only big enough to hold suitcases. On the right, no more than a handful of meters to the other wall, stood a small water fountain, a few cups stacked next to it. There was a narrow door beyond it, which Yaz assumed and hoped was a washroom. 

It was dark, some weak yellow sconces struggling to light the room. Yaz fully expected the walls to feel wet, like the weight of the miles and miles of planet above them was crushing the tiny space. Yaz gulped. The Doctor patted her quickly on the arm, seeing Yaz’s discomfort. She moved to the opening to ask a question, but the miner had already started closing the door, sending them a jaunty wave that left a trail of coal dust in the air.

“Come and visit the Blessed Core again soon!” she sang out. 

And then the door slid home with a finality that sent a full-body shudder through Yaz. The Doctor stood in the center of the room with her hands on her hips, her face scrunched up as she took in the surroundings. The thought of eight hours in this here did not thrill her. She blew out a breath. 

“Well, I ‘spose it could be worse,” she said. “It can always be worse, in my experience.” The Doctor glanced at Yaz and saw she had the edge of the upper part of the bed in a death grip.

“Alright, Yaz?” she asked, tilting her head, frowning. Yaz turned toward her and tried to put on a nonchalant look.

“Yeah, ‘course. This just isn’t exactly luxury accommodations. Looks like the Orravians put all their money into the window dressing to pull the tourist traffic in. This right here is like the saddest exit room in the universe’s worst therapist office.” She knocked her knuckles against the metal frame, setting off a dull clang, and then determinedly dropped her hands to her side.

The Doctor was still looking at her. Yaz squared her shoulders.

“What?” she challenged.

The Doctor shrugged. “I know we’ve been in tighter jams than this before, alcoves and all that. You look, well...a bit stressed.”

“That’s because all those “tight jams” had ready enough exits should we have needed ‘em, even if we were running right into a worse situation. I think we’re in here for the full eight hours. No gettin’ off this ride.” Yaz swallowed hard again. “Speaking of, are we movin’? How’re we supposed to know if the car has start--.” The floor of the car began thrumming suddenly, throwing them both off balance. The vibration crept up the walls and ceiling, enveloping them in what sounded and felt like a dentist’s drill.

“Oh hell no,” Yaz said. And then the thrumming grew in volume and vibration until it sounded like what it probably was, stone grinding on stone, as the car moved up through the strata of rock. Yaz slapped her hands over her ears and made a piteous noise. “This...I can’t!” 

The sound was still increasing until Yaz was sure her teeth would rattle out of her head. She dropped to her knees. Her vision was darkening at the edges.

“Yaz!” The Doctor rushed to her side and crouched next to her, a hand on her back. 

“Doctor!” Yaz cried, “You can’t hear that?” She yelled into the Doctor’s face. The time lord was swimming in and out of focus. The Doctor could feel Yaz’s heart, beating hard and fast as a hummingbird’s.

“Yes, it’s awful!” The Doctor winced as a particularly bad sound erupted from the right wall. 

“Doctor, I...I,” Yaz trailed off as her breathing ramped up. She couldn’t get enough air. She looked at the Doctor with wide eyes and tried to both cover her ears and clutch her throat at the same time. “I think I’m gonna pass out,” she yelled.

The Doctor snapped into motion, gripping Yaz as she hunched over, folded in on herself, and half-dragged, half-carried her over to the bed. She plopped Yaz down on the rough gray blanket and then scooted her over so she could hop onto the bed herself, pressing against the younger woman in the small space. The top of the bunk was very close to their heads, adding to the claustrophobic feeling. Yaz was droning in one long wail and the Doctor could only see the whites of her eyes. The Doctor’s mouth formed a hard line and she nodded to herself.

“I’m going to do something, Yaz. I promise it’s safe, I just have to do a little...er...mild mind invasion.” She spoke loudly, trying to make the younger woman hear her over the woeful noise she was making. The sound made the Doctor’s hearts break. Yaz’s legs thrashed out, clanging into the metal bars, and the Doctor leaned her own weight onto her to pin her in place and keep her from hurting herself. “Yaz!” she yelled.

Yaz was in a world of pain. She could barely sense the Doctor next to her. She reached out and clutched the Doctor’s sleeve. She managed a small “help” before she fainted dead away.

The Doctor breathed out and cursed the horrible noise all around them. She shook her right hand out, loosening the joints. Pulling a deep breath in, she watched Yaz, the woman’s features no longer winched together. She looked untroubled in her swoon. 

The Doctor brought her fingers up to the right side of Yaz’s face, placing two against her temple, one by her ear, and her thumb by the corner of her mouth. Her eyes slipped shut and she muttered some half-remembered Gallifreyan. It’d been awhile since she had attempted this.

*****************

Yaz was first aware of the sound, even before she opened her eyes. Silence. Well, not silence, exactly, but that terrible grinding noise was gone, and she couldn’t feel that horrible, incessant vibration running through her body. There was a different noise however. A soft, whispered, lilting sound, and behind it, a happy familiar burble that Yaz couldn’t quite place. 

The second thing she became aware of was a weight on top of her. A strong, blanketing presence. She opened her eyes and found herself two inches from the Doctor’s face, her eyes shut in concentration. The Doctor was covering her, her leg thrown over Yaz’s body, her hips against Yaz’s own, their torsos completely flush, arms bracketing Yaz’s head. Yaz gulped.

That alone was surprising, but what was even more surprising was what the Doctor was doing. Her hand was splayed against Yaz’s face and Yaz almost leaned into the contact. She was so caught off guard with how completely the Doctor was touching her. She could feel the muscles in the Doctor’s stomach tensing.

But the absolute, most surprising thing was that the Doctor was singing. 

She sang quietly, fragments of a tune surfacing and then vanishing into a whispered chant. Her singing voice was nice - high and clear. Yaz breathed out carefully, shakily, the remnants of the panic attack still coursing through her. She hadn’t had one in so long. The Doctor’s hips suddenly flexed down, immersed in whatever she was doing, and Yaz’s eyes flew all the way open.

“Oh,” she squeaked out. The Doctor’s eyes opened slowly and her singing ceased. She blew out a slow breath and her hand slipped from Yaz’s face, the palm flattening out against the bed so she could brace herself and pull back. The motion jostled her body and Yaz felt the friction. Everywhere.

“Yaz,” she said, her eyes a little unfocused, “ah, good.” She stared down at Yaz, her gaze drifting down to Yaz’s mouth. Yaz licked her lips. The Doctor’s chest moved against Yaz, and she tore her eyes away, looking up at the underside of the bed frame. Yaz followed her look and gasped.

“Doctor - what? What did you do? How?” She stared in disbelief.

The Doctor looked back down at her with a pleased smirk and lifted her eyebrows. “Yeah, think I managed it, didn’t I?”

Above their heads, through the open ceiling of what looked like the top of a small green tent, Yaz could see blue sky. Her mouth dropped open in wonder.

**Author's Note:**

> A quick two-shot coming your way. I've been sick the past several months, but hopefully coming out of it (please dear lordy) and back on my bullshit. I hope also to finish my other in-process work soon! Thanks for any feedback, y'all, as always. :)


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